


Little J

by th3rm0pyl43



Series: Primus [1]
Category: Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Male Character, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Forgiveness, M/M, Mac and Adam go on an adventure, Making Up, Oh No He's Hot, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Post-Deus Ex: Mankind Divided, Recovery, Rescue Missions, Secret Children, Sidekicks, Starting Over, Swearing, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-19 20:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20663087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/th3rm0pyl43/pseuds/th3rm0pyl43
Summary: "Adam, there's something I need to tell you. I-"Megan never got to finish her sentence.





	Little J

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Christ, hanzer, you expect me to stick my neck out for you with no fucking idea what I'm getting myself into? I'd call you a madman, but that'd be a compliment."
> 
> MacReady gets himself into something that no one can quite see the entire scope of.

The door had barely registered his presence when- "Bugger off, Jensen, I'm busy."

Jensen arched an eyebrow. "That's fine. I just need you to stop by my apartment after hours."

"Yeah, fine-" MacReady grunted, then actually looked up from his monitor. "-wait. What the fuck do you mean, stop by your apartment after hours? Is this how you Augs flirt?"

Usually the rough attitude didn't bother the agent, but when he stiffened at the teasing remark, Mac knew something was wrong.

"It's miles away from what you might think it is," he responded, lowering his voice. "Something's come up, Mac. I need your help."

"RoboCop needs _my_ help. That's a new one," Mac scoffed. His gut feeling told him something was _deeply_ wrong, but part of him still clung to the idea that _Adam Motherfucking Jensen _never needed anyone's help.

He sighed, then saved his documents and stood up to be on eye level with Jensen.

"All right, then. What could you possibly need my help with?"

"I can't tell you here. Not safe."

"You're shittin' me, right? This is probably the safest place on Earth right now!"

Jensen's deadpan expression, or at least what wasn't covered by his golden visors, told him otherwise.

"Christ, hanzer, you expect me to stick my neck out for you with no fucking idea what I'm getting myself into? I'd call you a madman, but that'd be a compliment."

"Do you trust me, Mac?"

Mac scowled. "I don't trust anybody as far as I can throw 'em. But..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I _guess_ that out of the people I don't trust, you _might_ be one of those I don't trust the least. _Maybe_. Don't get your hopes up."

"That's enough for this," Jensen said dryly. "So, are you up for this or not?"

This was one of _those_ moments. The ones where Mac wished for nothing more than to be able to smash those _goddamn_ visors and truly be face to face with the insufferable agent.

But he restrained himself. Not just because punching a walking weapon of mass destruction in the face over something as petty as this was a positively shitty idea, but because he'd already made his decision.

"Of fuckin' course I'm up for whatever you could possibly throw at me. Meet me at the lift at nineteen-thirty... now piss off."

Jensen turned on his heel immediately, and breathed a sigh of relief when he exited. Mac hadn't been his first choice personality-wise, but none of the others had the ridiculously bullheaded tenacity and ability to improvise that this delicate matter required. 

Besides, perhaps spending more time with the man who hated Jensen's guts might just do both of them some good.

* * *

State Police had lifted the curfew, but cops as far the eye could see still gave Mac the creeps. 

"Can you believe those incompetent fucks fell for the doctored train station footage?" he hissed under his breath. "A toddler could've seen that something was wrong with it, for Christ's sake."

Jensen only hummed a wordless affirmative. The same, though with more mundane complaints, happened again on the metro to Překážka, and again when the unequal pair entered Zeleň Apartments.

The fourth time, Jensen whirled around, leading to Mac crashing straight against his front. "I need you to stop flapping your gums for five minutes, soldier. Can you do that?"

Mac cursed, stepped back and rubbed his chest. "Fine, tin man. Could've told me that a bit earlier, no?"

Another monosyllabic response. Irritated, Mac thought that whatever he went through this ordeal for had better be worth it.

A small, unremarkable courtyard. Two storage units opposite the entrance. Three flights of stairs, four floors. Of course it had to be the attic flat.

Jensen briefly stopped in front of the door as he keyed in the code. Mac would've peeked, but he could _feel_ the agent's stern gaze on him behind the visors. _Don't do anything stupid._

The keypad beeped brightly, the door swung open and a Smart Home system greeted the two with its feminine voice. "_Welcome home, Mr. Jensen._"

Mac rounded the corner on Jensen's heel, eyes warily darting around until he found something that definitely did not belong in the shabby-looking apartment. What Jensen needed his help with was...

...a child?

A little boy. A toddler, three years old at most, sitting contently on the couch, having left the television running while he flipped clumsily through an old issue of _National Geographic_. 

"What the fuck, Jensen," Mac sputtered. "I expected some fucked-up shite in here, but a kid? What the fuck-?!"

The boy didn't flinch at the plentiful cursing, but did look up, waving hello. 

"Will you introduce yourself?" Jensen encouraged him, and he put the magazine away, slid off the couch, waddled over to Mac and held up a tiny hand for him to shake. 

"It's nice to meet you!"

Mac humored him, and wondered if this wasn't some strange booze-induced nightmare. In what world...

"Didn't you forget something?"

"Forget... oh!"

The boy bounced excitedly in place. "I'm Isaac! What's your name?"

"MacReady," the specialist responded bluntly. "But everybody calls me Mac."

"Okay! Mac!"

The kid repeated the name a few times - good Lord, was he calling him _Uncle_ Mac? - then went off to the couch again, happily babbling to himself as he picked up the magazine again.

Mac sank down onto a chair at the kitchen table, taking a moment to process this.

"All right, Jensen," he managed after a while, lamely having watched Jensen hang up his coat and adjust his short-sleeved shirt before sitting down opposite him. "Why is there a kid in your flat, where did he come from, and how long has he been here? And for God's sake, what does all of this have to do with me?"

Jensen downed a glass of water before responding. "He's here because he belongs here, I don't know where he came from, and he just showed up here two days ago."

"Belongs- what the _fuck_ are you on about? You adopting orphans willy-nilly all of a sudden?"

Jensen's visors slid back with no warning. 

Mac found himself shell-shocked by a pair of flawless artificial eyes with the most breathtaking turquoise irises he'd ever seen... far more expressive than Jensen's perpetually half-hidden eyebrows and tight-lipped poker face. And their gaze carried a weight that truly hammered home even through the specialist's thick skull just how grave the situation was.

"His name is Isaac _Jensen_, Mac. He is my son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought something was missing from Adam's life, and then I saw that nobody seems to have written out this idea at length yet. All aboard the sad cyber-dad train!


End file.
